Broken Mask
by kchan2982
Summary: My mask is broken, I murmured. I looked up at him and asked him why he came. He didn’t answer, but leaned forward for the second time that night...


I was usually quite good at hiding my emotions, able to keep them deep behind my mask. I wore my mask everywhere I went. To school. To the library. To dinner. Even to bed. I never took it off. It was my best friend. I could laugh at people from behind it, finding it hilarious that the fools around me thought they could strip me of my mask. I could cry behind it, finding my peers' words to be cold and hateful, even though I never dared to show it. To them I was neutral, a rice-filled sack they could poke sticks at. My emotions were intense, always building up in side, but I had put a dam behind my eyes, and had sewn the corners of my mouth into a straight line, neither smiling, nor frowning as people passed me by.  
  
But one day, the dam reached its bursting point, and the strings threatened to break. A boy had said hello to me that day, a boy whom I thought would never notice me. He had a flame in his emerald eyes that made them twinkle when he smiled at me. And I almost smiled back before I caught myself. No. I wouldn't let one smile ruin a lifetime of progress. I had spent much of my early years making my mask, perfecting it. I wouldn't let a simple crush tear it apart. I hurriedly walked past him, ignoring the hand that brushed against mine.  
  
But then something happened that I couldn't ignore. The hand that brushed mine didn't go away. It took me a moment to figure out what had happened, but after that moment I realized that he had held onto my hand, and had yet to let go. I kept my back to him, begging my heart to stop beating so fast, begging my mask to stay on. I don't have time for this, I told him, and I almost died when I felt him tense, the hurt almost too much for him. Why hadn't he made a mask like mine? Why couldn't he hide the way he felt if he knew it would hurt? Sure, I knew I felt the same as he did, but I was scared. I was scared to take off my mask for him, for fear it wouldn't fit if I tried to put it back on. He pled with me, saying how he'd noticed me a long time ago, and how he'd grown to feel this way. My lips started to break.  
  
He came around to face me, and I couldn't help but itch to run my fingers through his jet-black hair that was just dying to be played with, but I controlled myself and resisted the temptation. He still had my hand, and I tried to remove it, but his grip was stronger than mine. He asked me if I knew what we were standing under, and I simply replied no. He looked up and I followed his gaze. I cursed the bloody holiday, and the bloody imbecile who had come up with the idea in the first place. The boy had caught me underneath a tassel of mistletoe, and I was almost powerless to fight it. Perhaps I should let him, said a voice in my head, what harm could it do? Just stand there and let him get his fill, and he'll be on his way. But then another thought came to mind. Is that how I want my first kiss to be? Just standing there like a statue while the boy shows his true feelings? No, I didn't want it like that. When he started to lean forward, I turned my head. That's when I noticed another pair of shoes standing there, when I had thought we were all alone. I didn't care who it was, but they had just walked in on something I didn't want seen. I didn't want to hurt this guy, but it made things worse now that there was a witness.  
  
So I ran. I ran with all that I had in me. I ran down two flights of stairs, and through more hallways than I could count. The dam was breaking, but not for me. It was breaking for him. It was breaking for his pain, the pain that I had caused. Soon I found myself on the grounds, out in the cold. I wasn't allowed out of the castle at this time, but I didn't care. It was winter break, and there was hardly anyone there to punish me anyways. I slumped to the ground, not caring that the wet grass was soaking through my pants. It made me shiver, and finally I felt the first tear fall, burning its way down my cheek. I lifted my hand to touch it. It seemed alien to me. I watched as another slide off the end of my chin and onto my upturned palm, and realized that my mask now lay broken and tattered in my hand. I didn't hear him approach, so I jumped when I felt his hand on my shoulder. He looked at me with concern in his eyes, and wiped away a tear. I'm sorry, I told him, I didn't want to hurt you. I was just so scared. He told me he understood, even though I knew he didn't. I took one of his hands in mine, and looked at it. My mask is broken, I murmured. I looked up at him and asked him why he came. He didn't answer, but leaned forward for the second time that night, and I found myself going to meet him.  
  
I whispered his name so many times that night, and I find myself doing so now. I'm laying here by his side, begging the boy that lived to open his eyes, begging him to wake up, to breathe again. How I got here, I can't really remember, but I remember how he fell. I'm cut and bleeding, but it's nothing compared to the pain in my heart. My tears are flowing freely now, the way he taught me to cry. He taught me when he told me of his prophecy, and how everything would end. I cried for him that night, just like I'm crying now. The prophecy is over, his life had paid the price it asked for. I had been the weakness no one had been told about, and it was because of me that he died tonight. The dark lord is standing over us now, and I gladly accept his light. I'll go to see the only person who ever showed me love in this cruel world, and I hardly care what will happen to it now that the end it near. I'm whispering your name my love; these are my dying words, just as my name were yours...I'm coming Harry...wait for me... 


End file.
